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Topics - Dassalya

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Events and Occasions / Ossus: Legends Never Die (Part II)
« on: 02/12/19, 07:30:03 PM »
There is no emotion, there is peace.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
There is no passion, there is serenity.


  • Date: Saturday February 16, 2019
  • Time: 5:00PM P.S.T
  • In-Game Location: Ossus
  • Gamemaster: @Dassalya
  • co-Gamemaster: @recoveringgeek
  • Important: This Event takes place during the Jedi Under Siege storyline.
  • Faction: This is a Republic Faction-only Event.

Summary from Part I:
As Ossus fell under attack by Imperial forces, Jedi Master @Hawking Shatari and his allies, the Jedi Ediren Loreth ( @Joshmaul), Zhrreni ( @Niarra), Caben and Maerin Wysan, and Tela ( @SivWysan), along with the ex-Imperial Quarasha ( @Orell) and a friendly neutral by the name of Spirit ( @LVT), decided to assist Master Warn of the Jedi Colony in the evacuation of her people from the colony's farms. The group convinced a resistant and reluctant Nulaa Ulair to aid in the ferrying of what colonists were immediately available—with her extraction of a promise from them to inform her if they found a Kalikori refugee by the name of "Palakwi"—and departed in search of the largest group of unresponding colonists. After several fierce skirmishes with Imperial droids, the group found the colonists taking shelter from Imperial forces and strafing starfighter cannons in a nearby cave—and caring for an injured Augustus Jaade. Jaade informed the group of Dassalya and Anera's capture by Sith forces; the lightly armed and armoured colonists begged for help returning to the colony. Despite concerns by Jaade and Quarasha for Dassalya's wellbeing, it was ultimately decided that the group would help the colonists before going to her and Anera's aid.

Now it only remains to be seen if they can accomplish both goals before the Sith enact whatever fate they have in store for the captured pair...

There is no chaos, there is harmony.
There is no death, there is the Force.

Recommended Music: Legends Never Die

Media Gallery / Dassalya's Thread of Artsy Things
« on: 03/10/18, 04:50:54 PM »
Hey, folks!

So, some of you may know I like to dabble around with art, and I've been told a few times now that I should put mine up for others to see. Therefore, I present to you Dassalya's Thread of Artsy Things! I'll mostly limit myself to SWTOR-related content. I hope you enjoy!

Events and Occasions / Shadow of Shadren: Imperial Diplomacy
« on: 10/22/17, 06:38:53 PM »
On Iridonia, a king dreams of darkness...
On Shadren, a people search for their queen...
Two planets - two factions - rest poised at the edge of conflict.

Can you avert it? Would you begin it? Will you join it?

Queen Vedriat Azeara has been working diligently to restore the tarnished reputation of her people. Since her ascension as the sole ruler of the Shadren Hegemony, Vedriat has sent ships to serve in the engagement on Iokath, denounced the traitorous "Darth" Taelios and raided his megafactory on Shadren IV, provided the documentation of the Valefor's legal secession of the Sith Empire, and called forward her allies within the Sith to speak on her behalf.

Now, however, trouble sparks from the already inflamatory existence that is the Hegemony. A pulled, Iridonian news broadcast suggests the capture of an unknown Sith, and queries and statements from the recently vocal Shadren fall suddenly silent but for the unexpected announcement of King Dorian's return to politics. There are rumours that Lady Tymeis, Vedriat's most trusted servant, reaches out surreptitiously to her believed allies, for the Queen may be in danger...

You are one of those allies. Or perhaps you have been invited by one such person. Or, perhaps, your own sources have alerted you to this meeting, and you have decided it is best to make your own desires understood...

The OOC Bits!

Where: An Imperial estate not far outside Dromund Kaas' capital. [OOC Sivala's Lair of Shadows SH]
When:  Wednesday, October 25th, 7:00PM PST

This event will be centred around discussing the Imperial response to Shadren's current situation. Any applicable character is welcome, although if you intend to attend on a Republic-side character, please let me know so I may arrange an invite for you! Additionally, if you plan on being a party crasher, send me a heads up in a PM so I might account for that, too. I'm so excited by the interest that has been generated so far. I look forward to seeing you there!

Cantina / The Absent Thread
« on: 09/28/17, 02:50:18 PM »
Hello, folks!

I may be wrong, but I don't think we have an encompassing thread dedicated to people's short term absences. So! Consider this one an option if you need to leave a little blurb. :)

As for my own little blurb, I must inform you all that I will not be attending or hosting any Jedi Nights until December. I've been cast in a play and, unfortunately, I'm the only one of the cast who has a problem with Thursday evening rehearsals. Alas, poor Jedi Night, I knew thee well. I would still like to make myself available for Jedi themed RP (or in the case that a Jedi Custodum officer is needed), however, so please feel free to send me a PM if you'd like to get in touch! Otherwise, may the Force be with you all.

Peace out!

Holocrons and Info Nodes / The Zinnisaadi Memoirs
« on: 10/11/16, 08:07:22 PM »
Hello, folks! After years of humming and hawing, I decided it was time to start up my own legacy thread. I once had one running on the first guild site I frequented after joining the Begeren Colony server, but, due to the events in it being somewhat antiquated and with characters less present in this community, I've decided against transposing those posts over here. So! Jumping straight into the action at the current post-skip time frame.

Tamminick Nasadee lay on the medical bed aboard the Custodian’s Watch. He’d been here before—in this particular bed in this particular medbay, on others like it across various worlds, on cots and bedrolls and twice before the very dirt of the ground. The one difference, he reflected, was that he’d never had his sister as his physician before.

Dassalya stood at the foot of the bed, fiddling with the furniture’s built-in scanner. He tried not to watch her. It was better to focus on his breathing than to allow himself to study her face—so much richer with the markings of accomplishment than his own—or to ruminate on the anger that still eddied around his heart. Try to be nice to her. Alright Kyri, he thought. I’m trying. From the foot of the bed, Dassalya nodded with approval.

“Your healing is coming along,” she said, glancing up from her readings. “The scarring is minimizing. Brain activity appears to be flowing among its more natural paths. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Tamminick replied. He rolled his gaze up to the ceiling and fixed it there, biting back a sigh. “Aside from losing my mind the other day, I feel great.”


He lost the battle. The sigh escaped him. “Sorry, Dass. I just… I’m sorry.”

“I understand this is difficult.” Her voice was soft, sympathetic. It mirrored the concerned line between her eyebrows. “I do not hold it against you that you are angry with me and angry with this situation.” She hesitated. “...may I?”

Tamminick flicked his gaze down. She stood, hand outstretched, gesturing at the medical bed. He resumed his analysis of the ceiling.

“...yeah.” he said. “...go ahead.” He didn’t watch her as she took her seat, but he saw her movement in his peripheral and felt the sag of the bed beneath her.

“Would you like me to find someone to whom you may speak?” she asked softly.

Tamminick swallowed. “Another Jedi?”

“There… is a surplus of Jedi aboard the Jedi ship, yes.”

“It’s cruel to joke at the sick guy.”

“Even if the ‘sick guy’ enjoys jokes?”

“Your jokes are worse than Mom’s.”

A breathy, muted laugh. Another moment of hesitation. “...may I?” she asked again.

Tamminick shrugged. “Sure.”
There was the quiet rustle of her robes and a shift in the bed as she leaned towards him. Then, tentatively, a touch against his palm. Tamminick’s eyebrows rose. He looked down as Dassalya took his hand.
“I… want you to know,” she said, her gaze also on their hands, “that I am still your sister, even if I am a Jedi. I understand that it is not what it was—” Her eyes closed. “—but I hope you hear me.”
His throat tightened. She’s asking for your forgiveness, a voice in the back of his bruised brain told him. Forgive her now, or hold onto it forever. He swallowed.
“...I miss you,” he said in a small voice. “We all do.”
Her fingers tightened on his; a tiny, caught noise issued from the back of her closed throat.

“...I miss you, too.”
The anger in his heart ebbed, then grew. He looked into her face. “Do you know what it was like, thinking you were dead? Dad used to call me. While I was working. He cried so much over you I had to get a new frequency just so I could…” His lips pressed together and he gave a curt shake of his head. “...go ten meters without it sounding off.”
His sister wilted. Guilt washed through her expression. “I am sorry…”
“And Jarulee? And Haran? They talk about you to their kids in the past tense. ‘Your aunt was a brave Jedi.’ ‘She died trying to protect us.’ ‘She used to love honey sweets and terrible jokes.’”
“I am… sorry.”
“All the sorrys in the world don’t make up for what happened.” Tamminick watched her, miserable and shoulders hunched, unwilling—or unable—to fight back or defend herself. A thread of pity wound its way inside his chest. Guilt. “Just…” He sighed. “...tell me that it hurt?”
She turned to him with wide, shocked eyes. “Of course,” she said, the words heartfelt and impulsive. Then she found herself, and a veneer of control laced itself across her posture. “Tamminick… I may be a Jedi, but that does not make me an unfeeling creature.”
He looked away. “I meant what I said.” The words were subdued. He couldn’t bring anything more to them. The ache in his chest was too great to give that much voice. “I did miss you.”
“I know.” She placed her free hand over his and gave a squeeze. Then, with a gentle pat, she released his hand and attempted to withdraw hers. Tamminick didn’t let go. She stopped. He felt her eyes on him. He didn’t meet them.
The tension in her hand relaxed. She returned her free hand over top. “Do you want to tell me how you are truly feeling?” she asked, voice soft.
Tamminick didn’t. He didn’t want to think about everything he was feeling—physically or otherwise. But… he’d promised Kyri…
“I am feeling better,” he admitted. “Aside from that episode, I can… remember things better. Keep it sorted. Even the old memories sometimes.”
“That is good,” she said. She squeezed his hand. “That is progress.”
“Except for when I go crazy,” he added.
“You are not crazy. You have suffered an injury, and you have suffered trauma and difficult experience.”
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Tamminick replied, his words dry. “‘Difficult  experience’?”
“Is there another way in which you would like me to describe it?”
He let his head fall back on the pillow. “”
A moment of silence descended. Dassalya shifted her weight on the bed to be more comfortable.
“When I…” He lifted his free hand to touch his cheek. It had been some time since he’d earned the burn scars there, but sometimes they still itched.” “ this. I was angry. It hurt. It felt like everything I was inside was starting to show.”
“And… what was everything inside?” She had a gentle voice, his sister. She could fill it with concern and compassion in a way that no one else he knew could. A bitter part of him wondered if it was merely a tool for her Jedi half, but the rest of him remembered this was how she had always been. Kind.
Tamminick pressed his lips together. He didn’t reply.
“It is alright,” Dassalya said, patting his hand twice. “You do not need to share if you do not wish to.”
“I’m… broken inside,” he said, retreating to the language of their people. He could pretend, somehow, that no one else could hear them. “It’s hard to… talk.”
“I am here.” Her hand tightened on his. “Whenever you wish to, whenever you can, I am here.”
“I’m not… what I should have been. I let myself get so kriffed up…”
“That is what happens with trauma,” she said, earnest and gentle. “It hurts us. They help us survive, but scars are still scars.”
“I tried to… be a good person. I think I lost my way.”

She held his hand tight. “I will help you find the path.”

Another moment of silence. Tamminick counted the lines on the ceiling and tried to force down the feelings that had sprung out of the tight, black box in his stomach.

“Do you…” She’s coming. She’s coming for you. Watch for her. He closed his eyes and pushed the thoughts away. “...want to hear a story?”
“Yes,” Dassalya said, unaware of the whispers racing around his head. He opened his eyes and turned his gaze to her.
Breathe, he thought. It’s just your head. She’s not coming. It’s… not… It’s not your fault.
“It started on Nar Shaddaa almost six years ago…”

Outside Realm / AFK!
« on: 08/25/16, 11:37:02 AM »
Hello, folks!

I just wanted to let everyone know that I'll be travelling and away from home for a month starting on the 27th. I'll have internet access, but I'm not sure how much time I'll have to be online (could be lots, could be very little). I'll try to keep an eye on my PM box in the event that anyone needs me (especially for officer duties!), and I expect that I'd be able to pop on for an invite, etc. if needed. I'm also open to running private or public play-by-posts for those interested (but, again, not sure how quickly or slowly I'll be able to progress them). Either way! You now have all been warned up my upcoming, extended AFK. Be well, peeps!

Holocrons and Info Nodes / Revanche
« on: 05/12/15, 12:54:48 PM »
It was a typical colony.

Prefab cottages and quick fix buildings sprawled in a near perfect grid, turned away from their planned path only by the degraded concern of the inhabitants and their legislators. The colony had been backed by money once, that much was clear, but it was also just as clear that money had long since abandoned it. Perhaps the profits from the mines the colony had been built to service no longer produced the required figures, or perhaps the war or some other calamity had stinted interest or ability. Regardless, the result was the same: miners, and their peripheries, trolled the streets or sat in dingy cantinas, attempting to find some way to waste their off hours and credits in the entertainment-starved settlement.

Nulaa knew these kinds of colonies well. In her younger days, when she had been nothing more than a up and coming smuggler, running spice and other narcotics to places such as this had been a regular source of income. Mining was dangerous enough work, and the relatively high pay used to compensate for it—coupled with the lack of anything satisfactory on which to spend those earned credits—meant perception-altering pastimes were commonplace. Junkies needed their fix, and Nulaa had been happy to provide.

Now, however, she had a different task.

Her coral-coloured skin stood out in stark contrast against the dirty whites and dull browns of the settlement. Eyes followed her from doorways and dust-stained corners, but the seedy, soiled atmosphere did little to deter the confident swagger in her step. If she noticed those eyes peering at her—red rimmed, distrustful, envious—then a subtle touch of a hand to her blaster grip was all she did to turn them away. It was enough.

She made her way through the settlement, moving with the easy stride of one who knows exactly where one is going. Turning down a side street, she approached a grimy dinner with a faded neon sign reading “Togo’s” above it, and let herself in.

It didn’t look much different on the inside. Dusty, dirty, grimy, although with the faint scuff marks in the all-covering film on the tables and chairs that suggested at least someone had a modicum of care for the place. A row of booths ran along the outer wall to Nulaa’s right, with a bar counter and stools in front of her, and a small, dingy hallway with plasteel saloon doors just to the left of it. Beyond the counter, a window with order chits opened a tiny view into the kitchen, where an overweight, lumbering human presumably worked over a grill. A handful of bleary-eyed patrons sat scattered about the diner. One or two looked up with varying levels of weariness and disinterest before returning to their meals and stimcaf. Nulaa took only a moment to assess those occupants and the diner’s layout before stepping easily towards the hallway and moving through the swinging doors. The human’s head jerked up as she passed the open doorway to the kitchen where he worked.

“Hey!” he said. “This is for staff only!”

She didn’t pause in her step. “I’m looking for Quenla. Don’t worry about it.”


She continued to ignore the human as she stepped towards the end of the hall, where a worn, scuffed door lead out into the settlement. Pushing through, she came back out into the sunlight at the top of a pair of chipped stresscrete stairs, and surveyed the area before her.

It was just as bland and unexciting here as the rest of the settlement buildings before it. A small, dented, table of some unnotable grey metal sat in a small courtyard of refuse bins and abandoned junk. On it perched a human woman, so small she could have been mistaken for a child just about to reach her adolescent years. She sucked on a stimstick, its wreath of smoke creating an opalescent halo around her dark, chin-length locks. She didn’t look back as Nulaa entered the area.

“I thought I saw your ship coming in.”

“Spaceport’s over a click away,” Nulaa said, stepping down the stairs. “Good to know you’re still up to your old tricks.”

The door banged open behind Nulaa, cutting off whatever reply Quenla might have given.

Hey,” the human said, looking rather annoyed. “You’re not allowed back here. Get beat.”

Nulaa smirked. Quenla still didn’t look back. “Go back to your grill, Togo,” she said. She paused a moment to take another drag of her stimstick. “I’ve got six more minutes on my break and I’ll talk to whoever I like.”

The man blustered, his face going red. He looked from Nulaa, who faced him, smirking, and then to Quenla, who still hadn’t turned around to him. He opened his mouth to speak. Quenla cut him off.

“I think I can smell the patties burning from here, Togo. Lorin’s not gonna pay you again if you burn his order one more time.”

Togo wiped his sweaty, grease-stained palms on his apron, mouth still hanging open, before clipping it shut with a scowl and moving off. The door slammed shut behind him. Quenla blew out the final draw of her stimtick and squished the stub into the table beside her, putting it out. She flicked the stub away then rose from her perch on the table, stepping down to the ground. Slowly, almost with annoyance, she moved to the edge of the table and faced Nulaa.

“What do you want?”

Nulaa continued to smirk. “Is that the way to greet an old friend?”

“You’re not my friend. You’re my ex-employer. And you owe me enough that I’ll greet you how I like.”

Nulaa chuckled. “I missed you.”

“I’m not playing, Captain. What do you want?”

The Twi’lek shrugged, then moved to inspect one of the junk piles, feigning interest. “Got a nice job here. Interesting. Challenging.” She wrinkled her nose playfully as she picked up a piece of broken metal. “Must be fulfilling.”

“Things got hot and you ran off to who knows where. I’m with my family now, so yeah. It is interesting.”

Nulaa chuckled again, noting the defensive edge to the other woman’s voice. She set the metal back where she found it. “Interesting enough that you’re watching the scanners while you, what, run food in a dead-end diner? I bet you still have it all networked up to that fancy implant of yours so you can listen while people treat you like a droid.”

Quenla reached up to touch a dark implant in her right ear, but caught herself halfway and lowered her hand. “It’s none of your business.”

Nulaa turned to face her, eyes narrowed in calculation. “I think you’re bored.”

“Of course I’m bored. But it’s where I am now.”

“And what if I made you an offer that you wouldn’t be bored anymore?”

“No deal. I know what you count as ‘not boring’ and I’m not in.”

“I’ve got a ship. I’ve got muscle, and I’ve got contacts.”

“You’ve always had a ship.”

“I’m looking to expand.” Nulaa stepped closer, her movements like a snake, coiled, smooth, waiting. “What I need is a slicer. Someone I can trust. Someone who’s good.”

Quenla didn’t say anything, but she scowled. It wasn’t enough, however, to hide the intrigue in her eyes.

“We’re taking on everybody,” Nulaa continued. “The Hutts, the Empire, even the Republic if it gets in our way. Tell me that doesn’t interest you.”

The Human looked away. “I’ve got a family to take care of.”

“And you’ll be making enough credits to hire them a nanny if you want to.”

That caught the woman’s interest. She looked back, narrow-eyed, at Nulaa, as if assessing her. “What’s changed, Ulair?”

Nulaa met her gaze, all traces of smile now gone from her face. Her voice, when she spoke, was dark, angry. “I don’t play nice with beings who kill people I care about. And I don’t particularly like being hunted like an animal. You hurt me, I hurt you. And it’s about time people started remembering that.” She raised her chin. “Some of them already have.”

Quenla studied Nulaa for a long, silent moment. “You’re serious about it.”

“Like I said. I don’t play nice.”

The Human woman lowered her gaze. She ran a tongue over her teeth, considering.

“I’m not an employee. I’m a partner,” she said, looking up.

“Partnership isn’t on the table, Queenie.”

“It is or I walk.” Quenla set her jaw, chin lifted as she stared at the Twi’lek. “I want thirty percent of the whole cut, and I want to know our targets before we hit them. I’m not playing in the dark so you can drop me again like last time.”

“I didn’t drop you. You ran back to your family and you never called for pickup. Don’t blame this on me.”

“Do you really want to argue with me on this? How many other slicers you know as good as me won’t go digging into your secrets or cashing in on that bounty you have on your head? Yes, I know about it. I’m not stupid. You need me, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

Nulaa stared at her a moment, eyes narrowed, and then a slow smile touched her lips. “Alright… partner. It’s a deal. I forgot how much I missed you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get soft on me.”

Nulaa smirked. “Come on,” she said, nodding her head at the door. “Let me reintroduce you to the ship.”

She turned to make her way back through the diner. Quenla stood in the middle of the courtyard a moment longer, her dark eyes taking in the surroundings as if memorizing them—or perhaps saying goodbye. Then she picked up the pack of stimsticks she’d left on the table, placed them in her pocket, and followed Nulaa out.

Holocrons and Info Nodes / Yarwin's Memorial
« on: 11/06/14, 02:13:57 PM »
((Thank you to everyone who attended this event. It was a pleasure to participate in it with you. Here is the transcription  (slightly modified for ease of reading) of Yarwin's service. Thanks to Audaine for helping write it all down!))

Outside the Jedi temple on Tython...

Iaera:      Thank you all for being here on Tython today. We are here to pay tribute to Master Dai Yarwin, who has moved on through the Force. If you will all please follow me.

Iaera beckons everyone, and they follow her to the river. Iaera indicates the nearby stream with a sweep of her arm.

Ran-del hooks his thumbs in his belt and watches the stream pass by.

Iaera:       Master Yarwin often came to this river. “Does the river try?” he would ask. “No, it flows”. The Force was always strong with him, a strength he imparted on those whom he spoke to. When I met him, several years ago, I could immediately sense his wisdom, his many years of communing with the Force. He spoke with firm, confident sagacity, and a deep apprecaition for the deepers wonders of the Force. His strength, his wisdom, have flowed on now. Like the river, his ultimate destiny was always to empty into the sea, that which made him up becoming one with the greater waters of the Force.

Etirza glances at the stream, the flowing waters glistening past.

Iaera:      He joined the Force as any Jedi would: sacrificing himself for the good of not only his fellow Jedi, but for the people of an entire moon. He fought against the Dark Side of the Force at is most elemental, and although some say he died… I say there is no death, there is the Force.

Several Jedi bow their heads at Iaera’s words.

Eidan bows his head; off to the side, his first mate just looks around. Being around so many Jedi makes her nervous, but she’s here at her Captain’s behest.

Nieran keeps his head tilted forward. Quiet consideration as exudes the very aura he hopes all Jedi feel. His pheromones breached the sensations of Calm and Hope.

Adamantine is lost in thought, watching the water flow by, babbling as it goes.

Iaera:      I knew Dai Yarwin for some time. I always appreciated his insight and his wisdom on many matters of the spirit and the Force. He always possessed much greater connection to that side of the Force than I could ever hope to.

Maerin nods solemnly, smiling at another memory of water.

Iaera smiles at everyone.

Iaera:      I invite all those who knew him, to take my place here and share their thoughts and memories of the Jedi master, and how his words and actions shaped theirs.”

Iaera shuffled back into the crowd.

Shaantil steps forward.

Shaantil:   …I did not know Master Yarwin as much as I wish I had, to be honest… And many here would not be surprised to know that I had my… Disagreements with him… But I will always hold a great respect for him. Many here no doubt heard rumours, stories about his strictness. True to a point, but never without compassion and understanding either. The time that comes to me is shortly after my own Master had sacrificed herself. It had been several years since I had been her Padawan learner, and yet the loss still cut deep in me. Some would have tried to comfort me, reassure me of the bravery of her actions, that she would be remembered… What he chose to do was different. He no doubt sensed that I doubted myself at that point, that I did not feel confident in myself… And so he asked that I undertake a dangerous mission with him. He did not treat me like a bereaved child, he challenged me to be what I was, a Jedi… …Showing that even if I did not have confidence in myself, he still had enough confidence in me that he would place his life in my hands… Without question, it was a great honour to assist Master Yarwin… And a great privilege to have learned from him as well.

Shaantil bows, finishing her speech and stepping back into the crowd, doing her best to remain centred, for his sake if not her own.

Iroquois removes his hood for the moment; those from the Nexus incident may recognize him as almost identical to the single Sith who joined the team at Master Yarwin’s side. Hair and eyes hold different colours; the rest seems the same.

Ran-del stepped forward, growing almost restless. He leaned against the nearby rock and crossed his arms.

Ran-del:   I don’t know Master Yarwin very well. My time as a Padawan was out there, and I didn’t spend much time on Tython ‘til after Master Soldin died. I never met this wise man. In fact, the first time I met him, I thought he was a complete laserbrain. He tried to attack a Sith Lord on a neutral barge, and then fought him surrounded by Sith Lords. That was the first time I saw him die. I never knew why everyone thought he was so great. I still didn’t after we rescued him from the Bloasus’ prison, and he went hard-crazy and started trying to march us all to war against the Dark Side. We chased him to Taris, where he was trying to start a splinter group of Padawans to enact his crusade against the Dark Side. He’d turned a rakghoul infested ruin into a training area… A gauntlet, designed to turn Jedi into warriors. He usked us all, there, to cast aside our old Code and do REAL good, bring peace to the galaxy at swordpoint. And… It was tempting, especially after touching the darkness on Nar Shaddaa. But, in the end, rather than fight us, rather than try to temper us with violence… He faced his inner turmoil and accepted it. He remembered what it was to be a Jedi… To walk with the Force. On Nar Shaddaa, all of us faced that… hole, that weal in the skin of the Galaxy. But he didn’t just face it… he conquered it. He took it by the scruff of the neck and he made it calm, gave us time to heal it. He was never stopped by doubt and fear… ...even to the end. If that’s who everyone was talking about… then I’m glad to have known him. And I know, somewhere, he’s out there still.

Xagert clasps his hands behind his back.

Eszrah reaches forward to softly clap Ran-del’s shoulder. Ran-del smiles at Eszrah.

Maerin seems especially moved at the ending of Ran-del’s speech, remembering those final moments.

Eidan steps forward, his coat swishing slightly along the riverbank.

Eidan:       Not to sound like a broken holo-record here, but I, too, wish I had known him better than I had. I had heard of him as being a rather dour fellow. My friend, Saxtus Fayhan, however, had nothing but praise for him, believing him to be a trusted colleague, and indeal defender of our Republic.

Eidan nods over at Ran-del.

Eidan:      I was peripherally involved in that trip to Taris that Knight Quardaak mentioned. I was playing command-and-control back to Olaris. Master Netalis had gone ahead with Knight Qardaak and the Padawans. Master Netalis, at the time, was hell-bent on having Master Yarwin drummed out of the Order. But the others… they saw what Saxtus had seen in him. And hearing them say so, I did, too. As a patriot of the Republic, I say that if there is an example to be upheld of integrity and willingness to stand against the evil that rises from the dark places, let it be Dai Yarwin. In my view, there can be no more fitting tribute than that. Thank you.

Sotar smiles at Eidan.

Etirza looks at the crowd. She swallows. Iaera smiles at her. Etirza meets her gaze, then steps forward.

Etirza:      Master Yarwin did not try. He allowed the Force to flow through him, and it guided his actions. I…

Maerin gives Etirza a gentle, caring smile.

Etirza:      I’ve known him all my life. Seen from afar, mostly. But what I know of him is this: He had great insight into each Jedi… Into Padawans, even, like myself. He allowed us to walk with the flow of the Force.

Eszrah nods, then looks at the ground.

Etirza:      He gave us the opportunity to grow in the Force. Before his first disappearance… and after. I was one of those Padawans on Taris.

Etirza looks around.

Etirza:      I think he was himself even in the midst of darkness. And it is because of him that I am a better Jedi.

Etirza rushes to rejoin the crowd.

Several Jedi offer Etirza looks of thanks and encouragement.

Adamantine very carefully doesn’t look at Etirza.

Maerin nods solemnly before stepping forward. She kneels briefly, touching it to her lips, before moving to speak.

Iroquois turns his attention to Maerin, giving a blank stare.

Maerin:   Jedi, Masters, friends. I am honoured to be among you. A great poet once said that in every Sentient, there are multitudes. This is perhaps no more true than in Master Yarwin. I also did not know him as well as I liked. Was, perhaps fearful in my early years in the Order of elements of zealotry others have noted. In my final moments of knowing him… however…

Maerin pauses briefly, emotional.

Maerin:   He perhaps became my greatest teacher.

Sotar smiles at Maerin.

Dassalya’s brow furrows in sympathy as she watches Maerin.

Maerin:   As a shipbuilder’s daughter, I learned early that the fires of a forge can destroy… or create a masterwork. Many of us faced the horrors of the Nexus.” She meets various companion’s gazes briefly. “Our own demons and weaknesses. Most of us overcame them, thank the Force, to a degree. But Master Yarwin chose to give of himself utterly. He showed his heart to be, in the end, a witness to the Force’s compassion, giving of himself to save millions--even the very Sith who helped seal his fate.

Iroquois remains quiet at the mention of the Sith, looking down for a moment.

Maerin:   I struggled for years to be a Jedi--but I can say from my heart that he showed me the best a Jedi can be.

Maerin glances to a pouch, which she removes.

Maerin:    As many of you know, I have remained on Nar Shaddaa to serve for a time--as the Council allows. I visited the place where Dai Yarwin fell. I would like all of you to know that, in that place, I found this.

Maerin lifts some vivid, glistening stones.

Maerin:   In sealing that place, these gems of beauty were created. I will be carrying one in my new lightsaber--and would like any of his former students--or any who would like to honour his memory to take one.

Maerin places them in the stream.

Etirza gazes at the water flowing over the glistening stones.

Maerin:    There is also… impossibly a spring there, in the light of the distant sky. I am hoping to plant somewhere there, in his memory. I would welcome any of you to visit it, and help me when you feel ready.

Maerin bows deeply, and retreats. She gives Etirza’s shoulder a brief, gentle touch as she passes. Iroquois, following the Jedi as she stepped back to her place, felt a wave of guilt clench at his heart and started to move away from the group.

Aredanus steps forward.

Aredanus:    I am not a man of long, heartfelt speeches. So I will keep this as brief as I can. Many of you know I am new to the Order. I came under the tutelage of Master Xagert, who braves me, and the forces we face together, with equal courage. I, unfortunately, only met Master Yarwin once. During the briefing of the mission that would seal his fate. Yet, in this one meeting, I learned much from this powerful man. He was not one to show much openly, but he cared for anyone who would accept it from him. A gentle giant, if you will. Even I could see that. He was a balanced man, who demanded respect from all who met him, and received an ample supply of it. I may not have known him, but I would have followed him to the depths of the Nexus without question. He was a one-of-a-kind man, and I fear it will be many lifetimes before we see a man of equal character as Master Dai Yarwin. Thank you.

Maerin nods, still a bit distracted in her emotion.

Xagert steps forward, walking calmly.

Xagert:      I cannot speak as if I knew Dai Yarwin as well as many of you. I saw him scarcely, but the few times my path crossed him, I always saw a man dedicated to the Order and to his principles. Principles that many of you know and carry.

Nieran steps towards the river, listening to the others who still talk. He produces a cup from his robes and pours its contents into the river. A symbolic act, more than anything. But he watches it none the less, as the slight discolouration of the tea, like the river, flows.

Maerin smiles, pleased to see Nieran up and about.

Dassalya watches Nieran. She slowly and sombrely returns her gaze to Xagert. Maerin also catches Dassalya’s eye with a brief smile when she looks in her direction.

Xagert:    As a teacher, there is no greater legacy than to see students, whether official or not, remember the lesson imparted. Dai Yarwin was a teacher to many of you. And though he might not be here physically to teach you new lessons, find the courage that is now you who can continue his legacy by passing what you have all learned from him to the next generation. His courage, his compassion, his dedication, all that made this man a great Jedi, a great teacher, and a great friend. Thank you, and may the Force be with us all.

Aredanus leans in towards Xagert.

Iaera looks around.

Iaera:      Do any other wish to speak?

Eszrah raises a hand.

Iaera beckons to Eszrah.

Eszrah weaves his way through the crowd and approaches the front. Under a woven shawl covering his left shoulder and arm, a metallic glint is seen. He begins to shrug off one of his boots and finally puts his bare foot in the stream. The water rushes around it, burying it in silt. He closes his eyes.

Eszrah:    Yarwin, ov Tyth. His Wordle. Jedi, he. Yn O’va gane, heyth. Daeda he, allsed, andso byforrthe hissen kyn. Daeda he, andso yiit meanye goode rest wehreall… Yarwin was a Jedi. This is all that he would have cared to hear, for even now, he listens. This is certain.

Etirza bows her head.

Ran-del meditates.

Maerin also bows her head in a silent prayer.

Eszrah nods, having said his piece. He pulls his foot free of the river and walks back towards the end of the group, shed boot in hand.

Nieran leans forward, taking a cup--now full of the stream’s water--as he moves towards where speakers stand and places it on the rock before rejoining the others.

Iaera smiles.

Iroquois places a hand on the rock beside him and leans onto it, carefully overlooking the group and listening faintly.

Iaera:      Thank you, everyone. All that can be said has been said. The Force is with Dai Yarwin. And so may it be with us.

Iaera bows her head.

Nieran:      Force be with you.

Nieran speaks, expecting a chorus behind him. The others repeat the words, some quietly to themselves, some in ways that those around may hear.

Ran-del:   For Yarwin! For the Jedi!

Miller smiles faintly at Ran-del. “Cheers to that.”

Ran-del holds his saber aloft in remembrance.

Abethul draws her training saber, holding it to the sky.

Maerin murmurs a prayer in Old Corellian. She draws her partially completed new lightsaber, touching it briefly to the water.

Eszrah brandishes his spear and holds it straight as an arrow.

The gathered Jedi ignite their sabers and hold them high in silent memory and tribute.

Ran-del joins the Jedi in holding their blades aloft, then sheaths his and bows once more. The other Jedi slowly follow suit.

With that, the service ends.

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